Thursday, 02/26/09 - 10:17 pm.
Boy, have I cried tonight. It's been a little rocky. Sometimes I'm ok, sometimes I'm crap.
I met with W so he could review my cases. They're doing great. Afterwards, I was meeting with CR so I could lend him $25. But he had to come with me to the AMT. Here's the thing: W and CR live in, well, neighbor neighborhoods, so I gave a ride to both of them. It was really neat that they met, they both talk a lot and know a lot and perhaps one day we can go out together. They hit it off nicely.
Before the ride, though, I told W about my break-up Joseph, in detail. And he told how he never asked me to go out because I seemed unapproachable and rigid. Now that just brought me to tears, because it's been a huge mistake in my life, and one of the reasons why Joseph broke up with me. I don't go out, or at least, I used not to. So I didn't transmit that vibe to him and he's never even tried to tell me to go out and have coffee or something. Not to sound clich� or to mean that I have no responsability in this, but I blame it on my parents.
I don't plan on crying over spilled milk, and instead I'll just make up for that mistake and I'll get rid of this fantastic SuperEgo, this parental presence in my head, that's keeping me from growing up and having fun. But...W said all 2009 I'll feel like crap, because Joseph was my first love and it was quite a blow. I told him how, even though this Joseph thing has destroyed me, I'm trying to get the most of it. I'm growing up. I'm changing. Like my patient, I'm changing my lifestyle to get over all this...W says it must've been hard, seeing a patient with the exact same problem as mine, but he's proud of how I haven't let my personal life get in the way of therapy.
After I dropped W off, I asked CR what happened to Mr and Mrs Smith gift. He said they loved it. I asked "really?" about six times. He described it in a different order, but this is how it went: they weren't home when he arrived; he waited for about 30 minutes, talking to Joseph's family. When they arrived, they were surprised by the present. They asked who it was from and CR kept quiet (because I'd told him to never say my name, he'd figure it out). It's from her, right?, Mrs Smith asked him. I asked CR what she looked like when she said that. Oh, she just laughed. I'm guessing it was a "haha, do what you want but he's mine" laugh, but CR insists it was not. Whatever. Then he went out with both of them for beers, and Joseph asked if it really was from me, and that's all CR told me, and I'm sure that's really all about it.
CR insists they loved the pillows, and added that they're indeed very comfortable. So while I felt really happy when he said they loved them, the smile twisted and I started crying uncontrollably and I drove aimlessly until I stopped the car and cried some more.
This was followed by a loooong conversation with CR about how I feel. I feel inmensely hurt. He says I'm entitled to, as he's my first love. And I don't know, we talked for like an hour. I'm so hurt. This hurts so much. I don't see myself healing from this, although I know there are millions of people who have experimented the same heartache and eventually went on with their lives. It's so fresh. And it happened so quickly. And I didn't see it coming. And he got over me so quickly and I don't mean anything to him anymore, and CR told me he said (ugh, sounds like gossip) that he didn't want to be psychoanalized all the time AND JOSEPH, YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG, I DO NOT PSYCHOANALYZE!!!!!!
My ego hurts. I feel worthless. And I know I can control my thoughts and feel less sad, and I do it sometimes, but this thing still overwhelms me. And Joseph thinks I'm taking it well because I sent him a wedding present, haha. I'm just trying not to look any more pathetic and not to be a burden to him. Not that I could be, since he's severed our communication.
Talking to CR, after a while, calmed me down and we high-fived. He said one day I'll kiss my scar and come back stronger. I'd make an amazing comeback. I wish. But right now, I just want to curl up and slit my wrists. I won't, but W said today that I have tendency to depression and I thought "thank God!" that someone notices. I showed him my scars from when I cut myself. But...I've been fighting it for years. I get depressed easily, and I happen to secretely enjoy it, but that's not a way to live life either.
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